The 48th Hunger Games - The Temple
by Lyra.Bella
Summary: These Hunger Games take place years before Katniss was born. The world of Panem and the concept of the Hunger Games of course belong to Suzanne Collins, whom I admire a lot and owe my inspiration to, but the setting and characters of this story are 100% my own creation. The story is about 2/3 complete, will add the next chapters soon. Please let me know what you think! For D.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I'm shaking so hard it's all I can do not to fall off the launch pad. My stomach is churning and I think I am about to black out. _This is it_, I think, _get a grip on yourself!_ I become aware of a booming sound ringing in my ears and realize it is the voice of the announcer, proudly declaring the 48th Hunger Games open.

While I'm fighting to stay on my feet, the platform on which I am standing begins to rise, taking me upwards through a dark, narrow tube, into the arena. Suddenly there is glaring sunlight all around me and I have to shut my eyes.

At the same time the heat hits me. I never would have thought air could be so humid, it's like I have run into a wall of solid steam. Instantly, I begin to sweat. I can almost see the thick drops of perspiration forming on the skin of my forehead, on the back of my neck, under my arms, running down my back. The heat is unbearable, and it is only ten in the morning.

The platform slides into place with a soft click. I hesitantly open my eyes, shielding them with my arm, but still the light makes them water. After a few moments, I can make out a round flat area of blindingly white sand, and the other twenty-three tributes, standing on platforms like mine, forming a circle. Their shapes are blurred by the heat.

In the center of the circle sits the Cornucopia, a tall golden structure shaped like a horn. In the sand around it, strewn about in no particular pattern, are all sorts of weapons, backpacks of different sizes, and other pieces of equipment which in the following days and weeks will mean the difference between life and death. The other kids are eying the prizes eagerly, probably making mental notes which items to grab first, what is worth risking their lives for. The tributes from career districts that are well-trained in hand-to-hand combat usually get to choose from the best weapons, while the other, less skilled kids (like me) have to decide whether to join in the fight over the good stuff or to settle for less or to just run for cover, at the risk of being at a disadvantage later on. We have sixty seconds to make up our minds, during which we cannot leave our launch pads without getting blown to pieces by the mines buried beneath them.

Hastily I take stock of my immediate surroundings. Closest to me are a pair of throwing axes, a large sword, several smallish backpacks, and a sort of hunting knife with a jagged edge. A satisfied grunt to my right informs me that the boy next to me, is apparently quite pleased with the selection. Of course I recognize him at once. Nero Crissom. I'm guessing he's going for the sword, as this was his favorite weapon during the training sessions. Not that he would be any less deadly with a different weapon. Being from District 1, which is one of the career districts, he has been drilled to fight with all sorts of weapons ever since he could walk. He is eighteen, three years older than me, and about my height but much more heavily built. With his wide shoulders and long blond hair held in place by a leather headband he might have been a hero from some Nordic legend. Nero is also the tribute who received the highest score of all of us, a perfect twelve, which makes him the clear favorite in this year's Games. Bad luck for me his launch pad happens to be right next to mine. He must so high on steroids and other stuff he could probably kill me with his bare hands. I just have to hope that he will ignore me for now because I am not much of a threat to him.

To distract myself from such dark thoughts, I tun to check out who is on my left side. Right next to me is a very young girl, thirteen at most, with green eyes and a mass of brown curls. I can't think of her name but I'm pretty sure she got a very low score, 2 or 3. She is nervously dancing around on her pad and hectically glancing around in all directions, taking in the terrain. For a weak tribute like her, the only reasonable strategy is of course to get as far away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible.

Following her gaze, I notice the lush green vegetation for the first time. The circle of sand we are currently standing in is surrounded on all sides by a very dense tropical forest. This jungle in turn appears to be encircled by a solid cliff wall at least 200 feet high. If this should mark the boundaries of the game arena, it must be surprisingly small. I estimate I should be able to traverse the whole available territory in four to five hours. Usually the game arenas have a much larger area, so as to prolong the "fun" for the viewers. I wonder what the Gamemakers had in mind putting us in such a cramped valley.

A little to the left I notice something else. In the distance, something dark is sticking out of the jungle, just visible above the treetops. Is this another rock formation, or could it be some sort of building? It seems to be the only structure of any kind, that I can make out from down here at least. I would like to check it out, but I decide it is too dangerous for now, since I would risk running into other tributes there.

On the side of the circle opposite to me I can make out Orestes and his sister Electra, the twins from District 2, standing only a few spaces apart. In the Capitol, they were nicknamed "The Terrible Twos" because they always fight as a pair. Their movements are so perfectly coordinated that it is almost as if they were a single person. Before, apart from Electra's long hair, they looked so much alike they could easily have been mistaken for identical twins, Electra being very muscular and only an inch shorter than her brother. But now that they have both shaved their heads they are virtually impossible to tell apart. Combined, they are the most dangerous enemy in the arena, and I am pretty sure they could even take on Nero easily. I've often asked myself what their plan might be if they are the only ones left at the end of the Games. I've never really understood the point of having career tributes. Their parents sent them here, knowing that even in the best case only one of their children is going to return. The thought sends a shiver down my back in spite of the heat. Where I come from, District 3, at least we don't volunteer our children to be slaughtered in the arena.

Each year the Capitol forces us to send one boy and one girl to the Hunger Games, but we do not compete for this "honor". Who goes is decided by a lottery. However this also means we are not trained to fight. The specialty of District 3 is technology, so in school we focus on perfecting our minds, not our bodies. I myself had been top of my class in Logic and Mathematics. I was planning to go to the academy to become an engineer like my brothers. Of course these kinds of skills are of little to no use in the arena. I have no illusions of making it out of here alive, but I vowed to try my very best to make my family proud. I look around for Ivee, the other tribute from my district, but I don't see her anywhere. She must be somewhere opposite of me, obscured by the Cornucopia.

By now my entire dark blue overall is soaked in sweat. I desperately long to tear off the jacket, but I know I might need it later, so I settle for wiping my dripping face with my sleeve. Next to the young girl to my left I notice another girl with long black hair, staring intently ahead. I remember her, too. Wing Jetsam, seventeen years old, from District 4. Back home in District 3, people often make fun of our neighbors from 4, which is known mainly as the fishing district. Word is, the girls from District 4 are ugly and smell of fish. And I never had had a reason to doubt this, since, it being a career district, all girl tributes I have seen were masculine types with crude, meaty faces and more muscles than curves. But this girl is slender and graceful, in fact she doesn't look like she has had any career training at all. And I know she doesn't smell bad either. One time during training I happened to be very close to her at the sword-fighting station. While she was fencing with the instructor, leaping and striking and twisting her body to avoid her opponents thrusts her long hair flew all around her and I thought I caught just the slightest whiff of cinnamon from her.

Almost as if she could hear my thoughts, she suddenly turns and looks right at me. Her gray eyes are neither friendly nor hostile, but her direct gaze makes me uncomfortable, as if I have done something wrong. We stare at each other for only half a second when I hear a wild cry.

"_Mom, I'm sorry_!"

BOOM!

I am hit by a shock wave and showered with what feels like warm drops of rain but is really blood and bits of flesh. My hearing is gone, replaced by a high-pitched ringing in my ears. Struggling to keep my balance, I turn to see what happened. There is a gap a few spaces to my right. A tribute must have deliberately stepped off the launch pad before the sixty seconds were up to blow him- or herself up. What a nasty way to go. Suicides are not unheard of in the Hunger Games, but usually these are committed later in the games, by tributes that are starving or faced with a hopeless situation. I don't think anybody has ever been killed before the Games even really began.

The kids who were closest to the explosion are covered in gore, their eyes and mouths wide open in shock. They are probably screaming their lungs out, but I can't hear a thing over this ringing. I wonder who it was that got killed. I think it was a boy's voice that called out, but I can't be quite sure. Perhaps it was the overweight boy from District 9, whom everybody called "Moonface" and made fun of? I talked to him a couple of times because I felt sorry for him, and he seemed like a nice guy. Although nice doesn't get you very far in a fight to the death. But no, there he is, standing farther to my right, very pale but apparently unharmed. He notices me looking at him and meets my gaze.

The all of a sudden everybody around me is moving, and a precious second or two pass until I realize the gong must have sounded and the mines have been disabled. Confused and disoriented, I finally stumble off my pad and head towards the Cornucopia, looking for a weapon. The blond boy, Nero, has already seized the sword and is charging straight towards the mouth of the horn, viciously hacking away at any other tributes that cross his path. Right in front of me, another boy is bashing a young girl's skull in with some sort of club. Wing and the younger girl are nowhere to be seen.

The knife with the jagged edge miraculously is still there and I snatch it up quickly. With it in hand, I take a few more steps toward a medium-sized black backpack to my left and notice that it appears to be partly buried in the sand. What's more, with every step, my legs seem to become heavier, as if my feet are stuck in the ground. With every move I sink in more deeply. _Quicksand._ My left foot is already covered up to my knee. I look around and see that none of the other tributes are running anymore, but are moving quite slowly. Some are making weird twisting movements to free their limbs from invisible clutches.

The scattered supplies are apparently being sucked into the ground as well. As I watch, the backpack disappears completely in a matter of seconds. My chances of survival will be very slim if I don't manage to get a hold of at least a bit of equipment, but if I don't get out of this sand right now I will not even make it through the next five minutes.

Thankfully, Nero and the other careers seem to have gotten stuck as well, I can see them over by the Cornucopia, struggling to free themselves. The ringing in my ears must be starting to subside, because I can hear shouting. Traditionally, the career tributes form an alliance at the beginning of the Games to weed out the weaker tributes, but two of the careers seem to be wrestling with each other, subsequently sinking deeper into the sand while the others are trying to pull them out. I wouldn't be surprised if the twins decided not to team up with the other careers but are fighting them instead.

Forcing myself not to panic, I let drop on my butt and spread my arms to provide support while I attempt to extract my legs from the sand. With a lot of effort, I can only free myself be a few inches. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see the boy called Moonface kneeling over me. I can't quite make out what he is saying but I think he means to help me. I allow him to take a hold of both of my hands and he pulls with surprising strength. Just when I think I am going to dislocate my shoulders my legs come free. Moonface helps me to my feet and without a word we make for the tree line.

I guess I have found an ally.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It seems we are in luck. All the other tributes -the ones that are still alive- have either disappeared into the jungle or are still struggling with the quicksand. The thought of leaving behind all the supplies, especially the food, to be swallowed by the sand, pains me considerably, but there's nothing we can do about it. At least nobody else could have gotten many supplies either. What a cruel joke, placing such rich prizes before us only to take them away again. I am sure somewhere out there the Gamemakers are having a good laugh at our expense.

I have nothing to show for except the knife, but Moonface is carrying a smallish backpack and a large sack that might contain food. I don't see any weapons on him, though. We jog on for several minutes until we are both badly out of breath and stop to get our bearings. He is beet red in the face, and I too feel like I'm burning up. We are out of the direct sunlight now, protected by a dense green canopy of the jungle, but the air doesn't feel any more bearable. I am still sweating like crazy, so I pull off my jacket and tie it around my waist. The T-shirt underneath dries almost instantly. It must be made from some special material.

Moonface has kept a little distance and is eying me now. Perhaps he is pondering whether or he can trust me. He must be thirteen or fourteen years old and is almost my height, but I am almost sixteen and quite a bit stronger.

I indicate the bags lying at his feet.

"If we are going to stick together we should pool our resources, Moon- uhh..."

"Caesar," he corrects evenly. "My name is Caesar."

"Corvin."

"Yes, I know."

"I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"It's okay. Really."

He genuinely doesn't seem offended, but I am still embarrassed I couldn't remember his real name. The other tributes always called him Moonface, and I knew it wasn't nice but the nickname got stuck in my head. I overheard some the careers saying some horrible things to him, about how he was a fat pig and they were going to cook him for dinner. I can only imagine what that must have felt like. Of course, the Gamemakers would never allow cannibalism, though there is a reason we call this the _Hunger_ Games. Out here, hunger can be as dangerous a weapon as a blade, and every year tributes die of starvation or dehydration.

Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Caesar kneels and starts to open his bags.

"Tell you the truth, I haven't had the chance to check what exactly I have got here. Let's see..."

He turns up a loaf of rich dark bread, five apples, some dried meat, and a packet of nuts and dried berries. This will last us a day or two, we will definitely have to look around for food in the jungle. Even more urgently, we need to find water. I must have lost at least a gallon of water already through perspiration.

The other, smaller pack contains a small tarp, a bit of string, a flashlight, an empty container for liquids, and tablets for purifying water. There is also a small notepad and a pencil. This is very unusual. Neither of us can figure out how stationery might be essential for our survival in the arena. But we decide to hold on to the stuff for now.

I feel bad because I don't have anything to contribute except the knife, but I need his food, and Caesar points out he is relying on me for protection since he didn't get any weapon of his own. Still, he is taking the greater risk by trusting that I won't murder him and take all of his food.

We agree we should move farther away from the Cornucopia and look for water, so we set off at a brisk pace. After about half an hour we come across a clearing. In the middle of the clearing looms a massive structure. This must have been what I saw from the Cornucopia.

"Magnificent," Caesar whispers.

It is a pyramid, at least 200 feet high, with steps cut into the sides. The dark gray rock is worn and covered with lichen. It appears to be an ancient Mayan temple, although I know full well it was created very recently and artificially made to look this way. Nevertheless, it is impressive.

We do not dare leave the cover of the trees to go any closer, but instead make our way around the side of the pyramid in a semi-circle. On the far side we can make out what might be an entrance, but as far as we can tell from here it is completely walled up. I would love to investigate this further, and to see what is on the other side of the temple, but I am nervous about even being here because it is such an obvious landmark. Before long this area is surely going to be swarming with tributes. Probably our best chance is to get as much ground between the temple and us as possible. As if answering my thoughts, the cannons go off to indicate all the tributes that have died so far. This means that the initial fighting at the Cornucopia is over. I count three cannons, one for the boy who blew himself up, one for the girl I saw being bludgeoned to death, and one more. Tonight, when the evening announcement is broadcast, we will know their identities. Three are comparatively few deaths for the first day, but I guess the quicksand severely hampered everybody. Maybe this had even been Gamemakers' intention, to avoid losing too many tributes right at the beginning of the Games, to ensure more suspense for their viewers later-on.

Suddenly, there is a sound of rushing water and we find ourselves in a downpour that is so strong it feels like the world is coming to an end. I quickly pull my jacket up over my head, but I am still drenched to the skin in a matter of seconds. So in the end I give up and just let the thick drops pelt onto my head and shoulders, washing away the blood from my clothes and my skin. The rain is warm and a welcome relief from the oppressive heat. I open my mouth and drink eagerly. Caesar has the presence of mind to take out his plastic container and hold it out in front of him, and by the time the rain stops it is almost half-way full with fresh, pure rainwater.

Thus refreshed, we now head in what I figure must be a south-west direction and keep going for at least an hour, until we feel it's safe enough to stop for a rest and a meager supper of bread and dried meat. We try to save most of the food for later, but both of us are still so hungry we each wind up having a couple of apples as well. It's nice to rest on the soft, cool moss and breathe in the rich scents of the earth and the exotic flowers. I half-close my eyes and sit still for several minutes, just listening to the various bird calls. These last few weeks have gone by so quickly that they are just a blur in my memory. The Reaping, the trip to the Capitol, the training. Ironically, now for the first time since all this started I can enjoy a moment of peace.

It must be late afternoon by now, and the light is beginning to take on an orange tint. The heat is also finally starting to subside. We discuss finding shelter for the night, and agree to keep heading outwards, away from the pyramid and towards the mountains. That way, we could put our backs against the steep cliff. If we are lucky, we might even find a cave to spend the night. I wonder how cold the nights will be in the arena, and what sorts of animals or other dangers might be lurking in the jungle. A fire is out of the question of course, even if we had dry wood and a means to light it, it would attract too much attention.

As I start to get up, I find my ankles are tied together. What appear to be long vines have wrapped themselves around my boots and legs like green ropes. Each one is as thick as a finger, and they are moving faster than any plant should be able to. As I try to shake them off, more vines appear out of nowhere, reaching for my arms and wrapping themselves around my upper body. They are scaly and cool to the touch, like reptile skin. I start to scream but only manage a tiny croak because the vines have squeezed all the air from my lungs.

Then Caesar is by my side, taking the knife from my belt and deftly slashing away at the vines. But for each one he severs, another half dozen appear and threaten to envelop him, too. I continue to thrash around, desperately gasping for breath. Just as I think I am about to black out, Caesar leaps into the bushes behind me and disappears. For a brief, horrible moment, I fear he has abandoned me, but then all of a sudden the vines go limp all at once and I can breathe again. Caesar reappears, scratched all over and panting heavily, the knife in his hand dripping with some kind of yellow goo.

"What did you do?" I ask as soon as I catch my breath.

"The root," he replies. "I found the root and stabbed it till it was dead."

Something is wrong with this picture. That a plant would move like that, and could be killed in this way... This must be a _muttation_, a plant-animal hybrid in this case, genetically engineered in the Capitol to spice up the vegetation in the arena. No wonder the vines reminded me so much of a reptile, they probably added some snake DNA to the mix. I try not to imagine what other dangers this jungle might hold in store for us. Apart from the other tributes trying to murder us, of course.

After wiping the blade clean on some leaves, Caesar returns my knife to me.

"We should keep an eye out for these plants. You can identify them by these white blossoms, see?"

He points at a bunch of tiny, snow-white buds. Very unremarkable, almost too inconspicuous amidst all the other tropical plants with their large and lavishly colored blossoms. I resolve to pay more attention to my surroundings, even if they appear to be inanimate.

"This is the second time you have saved my life," I observe.

The other boy gives me a half-smile.

"Don't mention it."

Then, after a moment he adds, more quietly, "I guess nobody would have thought that someone like me could ever be this useful, huh?"

"Useful? Are you kidding?! You are as smart and strong an ally as I ever could have hoped for. If it hadn't been for you, I would have been dead twice already. And the first day of the Games isn't even over yet. If there is a useless person on this team, it's me, for sure."

This seems to genuinely cheer him up, and as we pick up our few belongings and get moving again, I notice he is holding himself more erectly than before. And in this moment, I realize that whatever happens, I'm glad to have him as a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

We continue walking until sunset and set up camp in a small depression under the huge trunk of a fallen tree, after double-checking there are no white snake-plant blossoms in the immediate vicinity. The spot is surrounded by bushes in all directions and very well camouflaged. We gather some moss and leaves for mattresses and make ourselves as comfortable as possible. As we are sharing some nuts for dinner, the sky above us lights up and the anthem sounds, heralding the evening announcement. We lie on our backs and watch in silence. The faces of the fallen are projected onto the sky, or rather what looks like the sky but really is the ceiling of the arena, in the order of their districts. First up is the girl from District 5, followed by the boy from District 6, and the girl from District 10. Then the sky goes dark again. So it was the boy from 6 who committed suicide. I think the girl I witnessed getting beaten to death was the one from 5, but I can't really be sure. Not surprisingly, all of the major players are still in the game, and during the next few days the career tributes will be focusing their attention on thinning the field, before inevitably turning on each other.

Then Caesar has an idea. In the remaining light, he takes out the notepad and pen and starts diligently making a list of all the twenty-four tributes. For the next half hour, we rack our brains for names and specialties, and finally come up with the following: There are Nero Crissom, the blond boy, and Flavia Dawnwhite from District 1, the twins from District 2, and me and Ivee from 3. Neither of us can remember the name of the boy from District 4, the fishing district, but we both are under the impression he was a mean, rather large boy that got a high score in the training evaluation. The girl tribute from this district is Wing, the girl with the long dark hair who was standing close to me at the Cornucopia.

The farther we go however the fuzzier our memories get. The boy from 6 is dead, obviously, but neither of us seems to remember anything about the girl from that district. For District 7, in my mind's eye I see a wild-eyed girl with throwing knives and a very tall, lanky boy who could do amazing tricks with ropes. But I can't remember their names. Caesar himself is from District 9. He says the girl's name is Pearl Merrion, but he doesn't know much else about her since apparently she ignored him most of the time. She is a cute blonde, quite young. I also recall another, older girl who always wore a piece of blue ribbon braided into her dark hair.

The other kids were relatively unremarkable. As usual, the tributes from the poorest districts, 11 and 12, are no more than a bunch of hollow-eyed, underdeveloped children. The last tribute who really stands out in our minds is Rufe Avery, the funny farmer boy from District 10. He wasn't a particularly strong fighter, but became very popular both with the Capitol people and the TV audience credit to his friendly, easy-going nature and seemingly endless supply of jokes. Personally, I thought he was a bit silly and not taking our situation seriously enough, but I'm sure his popularity has earned him many sponsors ready to supply him with expensive gifts. And gifts are often crucial for survival in the arena. Ordinary people like Caesar and me, on the other hand, didn't win many hearts and can count ourselves lucky to receive something as simple as food.

By the time we have completed the list, it is very dark. Caesar closes the notepad and carefully tucks it into the inside pocket of his jacket. We decide to take turns keeping watch, and I volunteer for the first shift, since Caesar is obviously exhausted and I am still too high-strung to sleep anyway. He curls up next to me on the ground and falls asleep almost instantly. I am touched by this simple, innocent display of trust.

The night is pitch-black now, not a single star penetrates the dense roof of foliage high above us. I have never spent a night out in the wild before. With my back propped up against the mossy trunk, I sit for several hours, just listening to the steady breathing of my companion and the sounds of the nocturnal jungle, which seems to be more alive now than during the day. A soft breeze is stirring the leaves and gently ruffling my hair, but the air is still pleasantly warm. I wish I could forget where I am and why I am here and just sit like this forever. A couple of times, I hear some small animal rustling in a tree above my head or in the undergrowth. After that encounter with the snake plant, I try not to dwell on what else might be out there.

Suddenly, a tiny speck of light appears in front of me, noiselessly floating back and forth with no clear direction, then another, and another. In a matter of minutes, we are surrounded by at least a dozen fireflies, dancing in the soft night air. I relax and watch the mesmerizing light show.

Just when I am about to wake Caesar for his watch I hear the first growl. It is vaguely reminiscent of a cat, but it sounds much larger than a normal house cat. And it is less than 100 yards away. I reach over to shake the other boy, but he is already wide awake and sitting up as another, longer growl cuts the air. The high-pitched scream that follows raises the hair on the back of my neck. We sit frozen in shock as somewhere all too close to us, another human being wails in agony and then abruptly goes silent. Seconds later a single cannon shot is fired.

We abandon all thought of sleep after that. Our first impulse is to grab our things and run, but we can't see a thing and there is no in point in blindly stumbling around and risking stepping into the clutches of another snake plant. The best we can do is to stay put and hope that wild beast doesn't come our way. Fortunately, the breeze is blowing towards us, hopefully concealing our scent.

After waiting in complete silence for almost an hour, we have convinced ourselves that whatever animal it was has moved on. We talk in whispers to pass the time till dawn. We talk about home, our families, school. Apparently, Caesar is the youngest of six children, and the only boy, so nobody takes him seriously. I can sympathize with him, since I have two older brothers who have already successfully made a career for themselves. I always had a hard time getting any attention from my parents. In school, Caesar didn't have a lot of friends, and neither did I. Even in District 3, being first in Math doesn't make you popular.

We also talk about girls. Caesar confesses to me about a girl in his class whom he really liked but never dared to talk to. I tell him about my girlfriend, well, _ex_-girlfriend. We had only gone out for a couple of months and had broken up a week before the Reaping, but in that moment, when my name was drawn, I would have given anything to hold her again one last time. I had been secretly hoping she would come to visit me before I got sent off to the Capitol, but she never showed up. I guess it must have been very difficult for her, too. I imagine her back home, watching the Games every day with her family. I wonder if she is rooting for me.

I must have fallen asleep after that, for the next thing I know is that the careers are upon us.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I wake with a start. The first light of dawn is already seeping through the trees, and a soft mist hangs in the air. Then I become aware of voices and sounds of a struggle coming from the bushes to my right. I look around for Caesar but he is gone.

Flat on my belly, I crawl out of our little mold as quietly as possible and peer through the underbrush where I can make out the flickering light of a torch. The screams are getting louder. I raise my head to get a better look. Then I see them. A tall girl with a mass of unnaturally bright orange hair is standing less than ten feet away from me. Flavia Dawnwhite. She is the one holding the torch. And there is Caesar, struggling with a much larger boy who is taking huge whacks at him with a massive hammer. My friend manages to evade several attacks, but then a particularly vicious blow grazes his temple and he falls to his knees, stunned. The career boy chuckles, pleased.

Caesar's head lolls to one and then the other, and, for the briefest of moments, our gazes meet and I am afraid he will call out to me, giving away my presence. But he just moans quietly as his head slumps down onto his chest. He's barely holding on to consciousness. I'm not even completely sure he really saw me.

I know I should try to help my ally, my friend, even if it is crazy to take on two careers with nothing but a small knife, but my body refuses to move. It's like my limbs have turned to lead. And then it's too late anyway.

As I watch, unable to move, the girl draws her short sword and plunges it deep into Caesar's chest without any effort at all. A tiny gurgling noise escapes his mouth, then his body topples to the ground and doesn't stir. With a sharp movement, she retrieves her blade, just as the cannon goes off. My eyes fill with hot tears.

"Well, that was rather disappointing, wasn't it? I'd really hoped my first kill would be more of a challenge," she comments, airily. The boy laughs.

In an instant, the grief over the loss of my companion is replaced by cold fury, and a hard knot forms in my stomach. _So this is what hate feels like._ For a moment, I actually think of attacking them, but of course I wouldn't stand a chance. I must have made a noise however, for suddenly their heads snap around and look in my direction.

"Did you hear that?"

Silently cursing myself for my stupidity, I press myself flat on the ground and hold my breath. Flavia holds the torch high, staring intently and thrusting her sword into the bushes as she works her way towards me. She has almost reached my hiding place, her feet so close I could reach out and touch them, when shouting erupts behind her and she spins around.

"What's that?"

"I think Nero's in trouble. I didn't quite hear that. Did they say _vines_?"

The boy immediately starts running toward the noise, while Flavia scans the bushes under which I am hiding one last time, then makes a small sound of annoyance and takes off after him.

For several minutes, I am too scared to move. Only when I have convinced myself they are really gone do I rise to my feet and take a few shaking steps to the place where they left Caesar. His body is slumped over in an awkward half-sitting position. I gently take a hold of his shoulders and ease his upper body down so he is lying flat on his back. The look of pain and surprise on his face is almost more than I can bear, but I reach out and close his eyes. My tears are running freely now.

I sit by his side for some time, while the pale blue light of dawn slowly turns to yellow. Finally, I force myself to get up and moving again.

"Forgive me, my friend."

I start to zip up his jacket to hide the horrible wound when I remember the notepad. With trembling fingers, I pull it from his inner chest pocket. The cover is stained with blood, but the pages are still readable. I also take his bag with the water container and the remaining food, feeling like a dirty thief. I tell myself it's all about survival out here, and he would have wanted me to have everything. It doesn't make me feel any better. No doubt a hovercraft will soon arrive to collect him, but for me the game is not over yet. After one last look at my dead friend, I take off into the jungle, in the opposite direction as the careers.

It is a nauseatingly beautiful morning. The sun rises, quickly burning away the mist and dipping the trees in warm gold. Birds start to sing. The heat returns as well, and I am out of water by noon. I can't bring myself to eat, though. My head is still spinning with the events of the last twenty-four hours. The suicide. The quicksand at the Cornucopia. The snake plant almost strangling me. The nameless tribute being ripped apart by some feral creature in the night. The careers' attack and Caesar's gruesome death. I can't help going over what happened again and again, racking my brain for something I could have done differently to save my friend. But my mind is foggy from lack of sleep and I end up with nothing but a hollow feeling of guilt and loss.

Hours pass by uneventfully. I give the temple a wide berth, keeping it on my left and following the cliffs in a counter-clockwise direction. By and by, a great fatigue takes a hold of me, weighing down my arms and legs, but I ignore it and force myself to keep moving. It must be late afternoon when I finally give in and sink to the ground. I haven't seen or heard any sign of another tribute or animal all day, and by now I am so hot and tired I am beyond caring. I simply curl up on the ground, pull my backpack under my head as a pillow and fall into a heavy sleep.

I am awoken by the rain. The downpour is just as heavy as the one yesterday. I hold the empty water container up to fill it like I saw Caesar do and open my mouth, drinking greedily. I gasp when a sharp pain explodes in my cheek. A moment later something small and hard bounces off my scalp with a sharp crack. What seconds earlier had been the soft patting of thick drops of water has all of a sudden turned into loud drumming as hailstones as big as walnuts rain from the sky. Quickly pulling the jacket over my head, I make for the nearest tree and stay there, huddled against the trunk, until the bombardment is over.

The sky clears up abruptly, and within seconds the intense heat is back as well. Gingerly, I touch the lumps on my cheek and on the top of my head and establish that there is no blood. In fact, I feel refreshed from the nap and the cool shower, and apart from the throbbing in my skull I might actually be in better shape right now than I have been since I entered the arena. I decide to get moving again to try to find something to eat and a place for the night.

After walking for another hour or so, there is a noise of rushing of water. I continue on more carefully and find myself on the bank of a small stream, gurgling away merrily over shiny pebbles. The water is shallow and very clear, and I can see lots of fish swimming around, close to the surface. Finally, an easy way to restock my food and water supplies. I am about to wade right in when I notice I am not alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I slink back into the bushes that line the riverbank. The girl is less than twenty yards downstream from me, standing barefoot in the middle of the stream. Piled up on the opposite bank are her boots, a black bag, and a number of small fish. Her back is towards me, a short barbed spear in her hand. With a quick, skilled movement she thrusts it into the shallow water, her long black hair flowing around her as she straightens up to examine her catch. She turns her head slightly and I recognize her. It is Wing, the girl from District 4. Of course, only someone from her district could be this skilled with a fishing spear. There is a speck of bright yellow in her hair, a feather perhaps. Her naked arms and shoulders are the color of wild honey. I want to call out to her, to let her know I am friendly, but I can't think of the right words.

When I take a step forward a twig snaps under my boot. The girl spins around at the noise, assesses me with a quick look, grabs her boots and other things and takes off into the jungle.

"Wait!" I call after her, but she is already gone.

Well, I can't say I blame her. Out here, it's a risk to trust anybody, even if they come across as friendly. And when I think of what happened to my last ally, she might actually be better off on her own than teaming up with me.

After making sure there is no one else around, I step into the stream to fill my water container and to have a closer look at the fish. Of course I have eaten fish, but I've never actually seen any live ones before. There are some grayish-brown ones and a bunch of smaller black ones. Even if I managed to catch one, I would have no way of telling if it is poisonous, so I decide it would be wiser to use the remaining light to find shelter and maybe come back tomorrow.

I head upstream until I find the place where the water springs forth from the wall of solid rock that runs all the way round the arena. I wonder if it is possible to climb the wall and what may be at the top. I follow it for a while, but don't see any way of scaling the cliff without tools.

But then a little ways to the right I notice a darker spot in the rock. It turns out to be a small cave, about six or seven feet from the ground, almost completely covered by vines hanging down over the opening. There are some convenient cracks in the wall and I can climb up easily. The crevice is barely large enough for me to sit in with my legs stretched out, but it is as safe a hiding place as I could wish for. I pile moss and leaves into it to make a reasonably comfortable bedding. By the time I am done the sun has already set. When the anthem starts to play, I turn towards the center of the arena and look up at the sky. And then my jaw drops.

The first face belongs to none other than Nero Crissom, the boy from District 1 who got the perfect score in training and had been the most favored contestant in the Games. His death must have really rained on some people's parade. I'm sure many had been betting on him and have lost a lot of money. This of course also means the surviving tribute from District 1, Flavia, will from now on receive the sponsors' undivided attention and, more importantly, gifts. I wonder briefly whether it was really the snake-plant that got him, or whether one of his career friends seized the opportunity to get rid of their strongest rival. I can't help feeling some dark satisfaction, knowing that, when you get right down to it, those muscle-packed inbred career kids die just like the rest of us.

Next up is Caesar, and I can hardly bear to look at his gentle face, serenely smiling down at me. The last casualty is the boy from District 11. He must be the one who was mauled by the wild animal last night. I do a quick count in my head. That makes eight dead tributes in all, sixteen surviving. I am expecting the sky to go dark again, but instead there is a short announcement from the head Gamemaker.

"Attention tributes! We have a special surprise prepared for you tomorrow. Don't miss it! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

I fall asleep wondering what kind of surprise he may have been referring to. Some new danger would be the obvious thing, but maybe the Gamemakers have figured out they can they can get just as much entertainment out of us by presenting us with something good and watching us kill each other over it.

I do not sleep well. Even though I am comparatively safe in my little cave, it is very cramped and several times during the night I am startled by strange noises. One time I am sure I hear someone (or something?) moving through the underbrush below me, but it is too dark to make out any shapes. Some time later, minutes, maybe hours, a cannon rings out, but at this point I am simply too tired to care who got killed beyond the fact that it wasn't me.

At dawn I rise on stiff legs, wolf down the rest of my food for breakfast, and start making my way towards the temple. I have decided it is probably too dangerous to enter the temple, but I just have to see what happens. I would be at a severe disadvantage if I didn't go and there was an arsenal of weapons offered there or something like that.

I move carefully, trying not to make too much noise as I am convinced many of the other tributes will be heading in the same direction as I am. After about two hours, the tip of the huge edifice appears between the trees. I circle around till I find a place where I have a good view of the entrance, then crouch behind a bush with fragrant yellow flowers and wait. The trees barely provide any protection from the heat, and I am soaked in sweat again by the time the Sun reaches its zenith.

From my current position, the temple entrance seems just as closed as before, but a several tributes have gathered in front of it. I feel sick when I see who it is. In the bright sunlight Flavia's obscenely orange hair looks like it's on fire. The boy from the other night is with her, and another mean-looking boy whom I don't recognize. A few minutes later, the twins from District 2 materialize at the edge of the jungle and head for the temple entrance as well. I expect there is going to be a showdown between the two career groups right here and now, but even though Flavia's group outnumbers the Terrible Twos, they do not seem to be interested in taking them on in an open fight just yet, and keep a respectful distance.

At what I take to be noon, the anthem starts playing and the voice of the head Gamemaker sounds again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I declare the _buffet_ open."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The instant the announcement has ended, there is a rumbling noise as a wall rolls back, leaving the entrance to the temple open for the first time. The first group has not moved, but Orestes and Electra stroll right into the gaping hole, paying no heed to the other tributes or the dangers that might be lurking inside.

Now Flavia's group seem to have made up their minds and head into the temple as well, one of the boys trailing behind. He takes up a position right next to the entrance, keeping a keen eye on the jungle. His military stance and crew cut immediately give away his career training. I hold my breath when he suddenly turns and stares right at me, but then I realize his gaze is fixed on a point somewhere to my left. Still, I crouch down even lower and curse myself for being stupid enough to even come here. I have never been this reckless before in my live. With all the careers about, my chances of getting any food (if it really is food that is being offered at the "buffet") are virtually nonexistent, while my chances of getting killed are much higher. And now I can't even leave without risking being spotted.

While I am weighing my options, there is a commotion inside the temple. I can hear shouts and the clanging of metal on metal. A single cannon goes off. The boy who had been keeping watch abandons his post to help his friends. This is my chance to get the hell out of here and head back into the jungle. I get up on my feet, legs slightly wobbly from crouching so long on the ground, and start to run away from the battle noises. Only when I trip over the body do I realize the cannon shot wasn't meant for anyone inside the temple.

The girl is on the ground, her body stiff and her limbs twisted in weird angles. Her face, partly obscured by her long, dark curls, has taken on a sickly blueish tint. A trickle of foam hangs from her mouth. I want to turn away from this gruesome sight, but the urge to know what killed her is even stronger. I notice her ankle is swollen and purple, with two distinct blackening punctures. A snake bite? She must have been hiding right here in the bushes all morning, exactly like me, and only by dumb luck that snake got to her and not me. The thought makes me queasy.

I don't see any weapons on her, but I have the presence of mind to take her backpack, which is quite heavy. Before I leave I risk one last look back at the temple, just in time to see the twins emerge, carrying several large bags, followed by Flavia and one of her allies, supporting the boy who had been covering the exit and is now bleeding from a gash in his shoulder. Then I take off at full speed, back to my cave. I can't shake the nagging feeling I am being followed, so I don't take the direct route but go around in loops for several hours.

Back in the safety of my little hiding place, I finally dare to open the girl's bag. I am overjoyed to discover it is crammed to the top with food. Not only do I find loads of dried meat, fruit, and nuts, but also plastic packets holding complete meals, the contents printed in neat, grey letters on the package. There is even a little bag of my favorite candy, little hard red balls. I pop one in my mouth instantly, savoring the sour-sweet cherry flavor.

When I realize I can survive on these supplies alone for a week, easily, a wave of optimism rolls over me. If I can avoid being discovered, stay hidden in my cave during the day and only venture out at night to refill my water supply, I could actually last for quite a while. The viewers back in the Capitol may not like this cowardly behavior, but I really hadn't been expecting parachutes anyway, and now I've got all this food I don't really need any. Assuming the Gamemakers don't lay out any additional surprises, that is. But I'm figuring there are much more interesting targets out there.

As it turns out, being a coward is harder than I thought. I pass the rest of the day dozing in my cramped cave, until my whole body is sore. At sunset I can bear it no longer and climb down to get my circulation going again and to stretch my aching limbs. I enjoy being able to move again so much that I jog in circles for a few minutes and then climb a tree, something I have never done, even as a child. As I get higher I discover that I've picked a great spot, for from up here I can overlook the whole arena. And just in time as it turns out, for just as I reach the topmost branches the anthem starts to play and the faces of today's fallen tributes appear in the sky. Two girls are dead, the ones from District 6 and 11. I can't even tell which of them was the girl I found close to the temple, her face was so bloated as to be unrecognizable. The other one must have died last night. I wonder what killed her. Or who. Suddenly I feel very cold, even though the air is still warm. I climb down from the tree and crawl back into my cave. It may be uncomfortable, but it's safe.

The next morning finds me with a throbbing headache and a body that is aching all over. I only dare to leave the cave for a few minutes at a time, to stretch my legs and to relieve myself. Then I force myself back into the tight space that becomes stiflingly hot during the day. I sit there as the hours go by, hovering on the edge between waking and dreaming, nearly delirious from the heat. For a while, I am actually convinced there is somebody there with me, talking to me. First it's my father, who simply stares at me with a disappointed look on his face, without saying a word. Then I see my older brother Kile, the only one who was always gentle and patient with me. He tells me not to give up, that everything's going to be okay. Then, as he is saying this, he is not my brother anymore but I am looking at Caesar instead, his face pale and his shirt covered in blood. I reach out to him, want to tell him I'm sorry, but my throat is all tied up and I can't get out a word. Then I open my eyes, and am alone again.

In the evening, the anthem plays but no deaths are announced for today. However this reminds me of Caesar's notebook and so I take it out and cross off the tributes that have died in the last days. I count the remaining people. Fourteen. Absentmindedly, I nibble on some nuts, but with no real appetite.

Night is falling quickly, and I spontaneously decide to head down to the river. I tell myself it's because I need to refill my water supply, but really I just desperately want to get away from the cave for a while. I walk at a brisk pace, enjoying the air that is finally beginning to cool down a bit.

When I reach the river, I wade right in up to my knees and splash my face with fresh, cool wetness. It washes away the sticky sweat and clears my head immediately. I take off my jacket and carefully lay it out on a rock close to the water's edge, not wanting to get the notebook wet. Then I let myself fall backwards and sink into the river's soothing embrace. As the water closes over my head, the world above recedes, until all that remains are my thoughts and the urgent movement of the stream. In that moment, I want to let go, to leave all this behind and let the river carry me wherever it pleases, to lose myself in this gurgling, lively darkness.

Then there is splashing all around me and several pairs of hands grab my arms and pull me up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Corvin! What the hell did you think you were doing?" a familiar voice scolds me.

I stand up awkwardly, feeling slightly disoriented, water still in my ears. Ivee, the other tribute from my district, has grabbed me by the shoulders and is shaking me. Slowly the world comes into focus again. A boy and a girl are on either side of me, supporting me. I notice another girl standing by the water's edge, looking worried, a burning torch in each hand.

"I - I just wanted to cool off a bit," I mumble awkwardly.

Ivee makes an impatient noise.

"Really? From where I was standing, it looked more like you were trying to drown yourself. Why would you be so stupid? And just when we had finally found you, too."

_Found me? Why would they have they been looking for me, of all people?_ Before I get the chance to ask, Ivee goes on to introduce me to her companions in that blunt, direct manner of hers.

"Corvin, meet my friends Thaniel and Lace from District 8, and that over there is Pearl. She's from Nine."

She indicates the girl carrying the torches. I realize that she is from Caesar's district.

"Welcome to the team!" Ivee says enthusiastically. I can't tell if she really means it or is being sarcastic.

"You mean, you want me to join your alliance?"

"Yes of course. None of us are great fighters, so we can use any help we can get. But we have got lots of supplies. We even got a nice comfy hiding place set up for us. Pearl here likes to call it our _club house_," she adds with a smile. "Unless you would rather stay here and take your chances all alone that is, playing in the river...?"

She mockingly raises a questioning eyebrow at me.

"No, I mean sure, I'll join your group."

She flashes a brilliant smile at me that lights up her whole face and brings out her dimples. I never really had noticed this before, but she is quite pretty.

"Excellent! You got any more stuff stashed away here somewhere?"

"Uhh, n-no. Just my jacket," I lie.

I can't really say what makes me hide the truth. Call it paranoia, or a simple hunch, but for some reason I do not want anybody to know about my cave or the food.

"Traveling lightly, huh? Alright then. Come with us!"

With that, Ivee takes one of the torches from Pearl and marches off into the jungle. The other three fall in line behind her automatically, and it becomes clear that they have accepted her as their leader. The pair from District 8 walk side by side, leaving it to me and Pearl to bring up the rear. Her large blue eyes study me for a moment. She gives me a shy smile. Her hair is cut short like a boy's, but I think on her it looks very cute. She can't be more than fourteen years old.

I am thoroughly impressed when they show me their hide-out. The entrance is nothing more than a small hole at the base of a large rock formation, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. It's overgrown with ivy, and I'm sure if I had passed it by accident, I would never have noticed it, not even in broad daylight. After about five feet of crawling and wiggling the tunnel opens up into a large cavern that could hold a dozen people. The echoes of our voices ring in the small space. They explain to me in whispers how the roof of the cave has several small holes, just large enough to let in air and some light.

And I had thought myself lucky finding that little niche in the cliff wall. This place is so perfect, it was obviously designed by the Gamemakers to be the ideal hiding place. Even if it were discovered, it could easily be defended by one or two people. Anybody crawling in through that tiny hole would be completely at the mercy of whoever is inside.

"However did you find this place?" I ask in awe.

"Ivee found it," Lace volunteers. "She got a parachute with a map that pointed out this place. Isn't it neat?"

I've got to admit, it looks like they have made themselves quite comfortable. Bags and blankets are spread out in the sand of the cave floor, forming four beds. I steal a sideways look at Ivee, wondering why I hadn't gotten any parachutes when she apparently did. I guess I should have known she would be more popular with the audience in the Capitol. But getting such detailed inside information about the arena via parachute is unheard of. Our mentors must have bribed one of the Gamemakers, I can't think of any other way this could have happened. I guess I underestimated her.

"It gets pretty hot during the day," she remarks, almost apologetically. "But at night it is the safest place you could be. And the coziest, too," she adds with a grin.

"Okay everyone, we should grab some shut-eye. We need to be up nice and early to get some more fishing done. Don't take it personally, Corvin, but when we went down to the river we had been hoping to catch something a bit more... _tasty_."

Pearl giggles.

The others clear some space for me on the ground and I curl up in the soft white sand, which is still a little warm. I use my jacket for a pillow, in part because Caesar's notepad is still in its pocket.

After a few minutes, the sound of regular breathing informs me that the others have fallen asleep, and I am alone with my thoughts. Only two nights ago, it was Caesar who was sleeping next to me, trusting me, relying on me to keep him safe. There is a primal sort of comfort in being around other people again, but I find myself wondering whether I will bring bad luck to them, too. I push these thought away and force my eyes shut, but the images of Caesar's gruesome death and the dead girl I found follow me into my dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next morning, I wake from a night filled with nightmares, feeling numb. My empty stomach is complaining, but I ignore it. I lie still, watching the first light of the new day seep into the cavern through the cracks in the ceiling. In the cool light shapes begin to slowly emerge, and, for the first time, I have a good look at my new companions.

The boy, Thaniel, is lying on his back, his arms and legs stretched out, snoring gently. The girls are all curled up in a fetal position, looking innocent and vulnerable like small children, especially angel-faced Pearl. Lace has her back turned towards me, but when I turn my gaze to Ivee I discover that her eyes are open and she is watching me. Or not? It's hard to tell in the dim light.

One after the other, they each wake up and get up to stretch their limbs. Ivee gives no indication to me that she had been watching me earlier. Lace begins to braid her long, blond hair, which I now notice has several blue ribbons woven into it. _Of course_, I think. She and Thaniel are from District 8, which produces textiles. The ribbon must be her token, the one item she got to take with her to remind her of home.

Pearl is the last to wake. She yawns heartily and beams at us.

"Good morning!"

Already, Ivee is all business.

"Alright guys, our priority for today is _food_. Thaniel, Lace, why don't you take Corvin to the river to catch us some fish for breakfast. Pearl and I will try to collect some more of those fruit we had yesterday."

Thaniel picks up what looks like a fishing net made from strips of dark blue fabric (from an overall?) and slings it over his shoulder. I notice a small knife in his belt, as well. Lace carries a bow and a quiver of arrows.

The three of us head back to the river, to a place they tell me is upstream from where they found me last night. The clear water is teeming with fish. Thaniel and I hold the net between us while Lace ties a string to one of her arrows and tries to shoot some smaller ones a bit further upstream. After only twenty minutes, we have caught about a dozen of the large gray fish I saw earlier, as well as five smaller black ones, which taste particularly good according to Lace. I ask how they know so much about fishing, and they tell me when they were kids, back in District 8, their families used to go on camping trips together every summer. I try to imagine what that must have been like, camping out in the forest just for fun. I myself have never spent much outdoors, growing up in a big city, and there weren't any forests around.

We are packing up to leave when Thaniel spots something and wades back into the river with the net.

"Whoa, here comes one of the big ones!" he exclaims. "C'mon, Corvin!"

And then I see it. Ahead of us, moving lazily is a huge fish, golden brown in color, with red spots on its back. I can understand why Thaniel is so eager to catch it even though we have quite a few fish already. It must be three times the size of a gray fish.

The fish is very slow and we quickly get it caught in our net, but the real challenge proves to be getting it out of the water. With a combined effort of all three of us we manage to haul the heavy body up onto the riverbank, where it lies flopping about while we all drop down as well to catch our breath. Thaniel gives a whoop.

"Niiice, this baby will keep us fed for days!"

I am worried someone may have heard him, but the others don't seem to care. They calmly begin to gut and clean the pile of fish. When they realize I have never done this before, Thaniel suggest I should start on the big one. First I stun the fish with a rock, as I had seen the others do. I get my knife out and hold it ready to slice off the head, when I feel a sharp pain on my shoulder and hear a hiss.

I spin around, but Lace and Thaniel are still sitting about ten feet away, chatting and completely engrossed in their work, taking no notice of me. I turn back to the fish when another small rock hits me squarely on the forehead.

"Hey! That hurts!"

"Psssst! Stop what you're doing!"

"Who-?"

A pair of black eyes materializes in the bush in on front of me.

"Don't tell them I'm here."

Then I recognize her.

"You're Wing, right?"

"_Shhhh!_ Just listen. What you've got there is a _bomb-fish_, if you cut into that you'll blow yourself up. Look!"

She points at the fish's belly, where I now notice a faint pulsing red light. My knees go weak.

"I- Wow, uh, thanks-"

When I turn around she has already disappeared. I stand there dumbfounded, not sure what to do. Should I tell the others she was here? She seemed scared. And yet she went out of her way to save my life, although I don't know her. Why?

I decide to lie and tell them I discovered the red glow by chance. They are disappointed that we can't eat the fish, especially Thaniel, but they congratulate me on my sharp eye. And we still have the rest of our catch to show for. We finish cleaning the smaller fish and wrap them in the net which Thaniel and I carry back to our hide-out. Before we leave we shove the bomb-fish back in the water, where it wakes up and resumes its lazy swimming like nothing happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

I'd forgotten how good it feels to have a full belly again. Back at the clubhouse, we had a regular feast of fresh fish, served with roots and greens that Ivee and Pearl had collected while we were away. Afterwards we just lie in the soft sand for an hour or so, savoring the drowsiness that creeps over us. Thaniel actually dozes off for a bit. Lace busies herself with weaving something that looks like a large mat from grass and vines, while Pearl chats with her in a low voice. I can't quite make out what they are saying, but it involves a lot of giggling.

"I still think we should have invited her to join our group," Pearl suddenly speaks up.

"I _told_ you, that little slut is no good. I want nothing to do with her," Ivee retorts sharply.

"Who are you talking about?" Thaniel asks, at last sitting up and stretching his limbs.

"That girl from 4, of course. Bird or whatever her name was. We ran into her earlier today when we were picking berries. Pearl here was all 'let's be friends!', but she just took off."

Pearl blushes deeply and lowers her gaze.

"Her name is Wing," I calmly correct Ivee. "And I ran into her too, uhh, several days ago, by the river. She was pretty jumpy, disappeared into the undergrowth before I got a chance to talk to her."

I do not mention I saw her again today. Or that she warned me about the fish and saved my life.

"Well, at least she's smart enough to stay away from us," Ivee says, dismissively.

"What is your problem with her?" I ask.

"Oh, you mean you haven't heard?"

Thaniel and I exchange a blank look. Pearl blushes even harder.

"Tsk, _boys_. Haven't you noticed she is clearly not a trained career, even though she is from a career district?"

Ivee laughs, when we still don't get it.

"She got herself knocked up. That's why she was sent here. Guess her family thought it would be better for her to volunteer and die with honor than to live in shame. It's all very hush-hush of course, never admitted officially. But there were rumors. I thought everybody knew."

"But... Shouldn't they make an exception for her, if she really is pregnant I mean?"

"Ha! What do you think would happen if they would exempt pregnant girls from the Reaping? Teenagers would be fooling around all the time to try to get pregnant, even more than usual I mean, until we have under-aged mothers all over the place. Not going to happen."

I hadn't thought of that. The possibility of a pregnant tribute has never been discussed in all the Hunger Games shows, ever. I wonder why it never came up. Tributes are teenagers after all, raging with hormones, both the boys and the girls. I guess any sexual references must be censored and left out from the TV broadcasts. Which, I suddenly realize, would include this conversation as well.

"Anyway, why any boy would even want that skinny bitch is a mystery to me. Oh well, speaking of mysteries..."

Ivee comes over to sit with me and hands me a small notepad that looks just like Caesar's.

"Here, tell me what you make of this."

I flip it open. A series of numbers is neatly scribbled on the piece of paper. 2, 3, 5. I throw her a quizzical look.

"We found this set of numbers on a wall inside the temple. It's some sort of a puzzle, a challenge set up by the Gamemakers. Whoever manages to solve this wins a special prize."

I stare at the numbers intently, trying to discern a logical pattern. For starters, 2, 3, and 5 are all prime numbers. The next ones would be 7, 11, 13, 17. Then there is also the Fibonacci sequence. That is 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, and so on, each time adding the last two numbers to get the next one. But how many tributes would know about stuff like this? It would seem unfair to present us with a Math problem that's too difficult for most of the kids in the arena. On the other hand, kids like me are at a severe disadvantage when it comes to physical confrontation, so perhaps the Gamemakers created this challenge so the brainy types can have a chance as well. Or, I'm thinking too much like a nerd and the puzzle really isn't as difficult as it seems.

"Back home in District 3, I heard you were a real math whiz at school, isn't that right? I mean, I'm not stupid either, but I just can't figure it out. I thought, if anyone can get behind this, it's you."

So that's why they had been looking for me. They want my help in solving the puzzle.

"What's the prize?"

"It's a small box, that's all we know. But because of the protection that's been set up around it, we've been thinking it must be some kind of a weapon or something else, like, really powerful. Something that could turn these Games completely around, tip the odds in our favor. Wouldn't that be great?"

There is an eager look on her face, and for a moment I am sure there is something else there as well. The smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Well, any ideas?"

"I'm not sure yet. Can you describe to me how these numbers were arranged?"

"There is a sort of pedestal in the middle of this huge hall, and these numbers were floating around on a screen. They are also projected onto the back wall of the hall. I think you are supposed to put them in the right order. There is a metal cage with spikes hanging right above it, ready to trap anyone who gets the answer wrong."

"I think it might help me to solve this if I can see the whole thing," I say after considering for a moment. "Could you take me to it?"

"Yes, that's a great idea! Hey guys, whaddya say we take Corvin to the temple?"

I am nervous about going there in broad daylight, but the others seem to think it's okay. After a brief discussion, it is decided that Thaniel and Pearl will guard the camp while Ivee, Lace, and I head for the temple.

As we come within sight of the huge monument, Lace unrolls what I had mistaken for a mat and spreads it out over our heads. The green and brown material makes a great camouflage net, at least from a distance. Under cover of the net, we carefully make our way towards the entrance.

When Ivee decides the coast is clear, Lace neatly rolls up the net and puts it back into her pack, and we cover the remaining yards between the edge of the jungle and the entrance at a run. The air inside is so much cooler it almost comes as a shock. It takes a minute or two for my eyes to adjust, but then gradually I can examine my surroundings. I am standing in a great hall with a very high ceiling, lit by burning torches. The temple is every bit as impressive within as it was from the outside. For a moment, I just stand there and take it all in. Dozens of thick columns line the walls, and there is a doorway on each side of the far wall, with stairs leading downwards into darkness.

Everything has been made to look old and decayed. The rock appears to be crumbling in many places, moss and lichen are growing all over. It would be very convincing, were it not for the smell. If this temple truly were ancient, the air should be musty and stale. Instead, this place actually smells like fresh mortar with a hint of paint. Still, the Gamemakers have really outdone themselves this year, and I'm sure the temple is completely convincing on camera. Had it not been for my nose, they would have had _me _fooled.

Sure enough, there is a small pedestal with a screen, which seems strangely out of place here. And there, floating around lazily on the screen in no particular pattern, are the numbers.

0, 2, 3, and 5.

Arranged along the bottom of the screen there is a row of small squares, one for each number. I resist the impulse to touch the screen and move the numbers around with my finger.

"Well, what do you think?"

Ivee's voice, though only a whisper, is eerily magnified and reverberates through the hall. She points to a little cage, set in the wall above the pedestal. Inside, illuminated by a subtle but definitely electrical spotlight, sits a small metal box. I have to agree with Ivee on this, if they made it so hard to get to, the prize must be really valuable. And cheating is out of the question. Even if we somehow managed to climb fifteen feet of sheer wall, the thick iron bars make it quite clear that there is no way of getting at whatever is inside without solving the puzzle. And my gut tells me that there will be nasty surprises waiting for anyone who tries.

Now, to focus on the puzzle. I take out Caesar's, no, _my_ notepad and start sketching the row of numbers and the input mechanism. I am completely lost in concentration, going over all the different possibilities and permutations in my head, when suddenly Lace hisses urgently, "I hear voices. There's someone in the tunnel."

We freeze. Now I can hear it too, a female voice is emanating from the right tunnel, and the sound of several people headed our way. Ivee acts quickly. The hall is huge but doesn't offer any cover, and whoever is approaching would easily spot us outside as well. There is only one place to hide. Ivee snatches a flaming torch off the wall and practically shoos Lace and me down into the left tunnel, mere moments before the other group emerges from the other one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

We stumble down the stairs as fast as we can in the flickering semi-darkness, Lace in front, me next and Ivee bringing up the rear with the torch, quietly urging us on. Behind us, I recognize Flavia's sharp voice, apparently arguing with one of her cronies. Just knowing she is so close by makes my blood run cold.

"I _told_ you, there is nothing we can do for him. It's his own stupid fault that got him into there. So let's just forget about him and worry about saving our own asses here, okay? Unless you would like to join him?"

We turn a corner and the words of the boy's muffled reply are lost. I vaguely wonder what may have happened to their companion. Did we miss a cannon shot? What if, down here, we can't hear the cannons? Then several things happen at once. Right ahead of me there is a sharp little snap like a spring coming loose, Lace lets out a short gasp, and a loud gong rings.

I stop dead in my tracks, too scared to move, and only when Ivee comes round the corner with the torch do I see what has happened. I would have screamed, had not Ivee's hand roughly clamped down on my mouth. We wait there, motionless, for what feels like ages, staring at the bloody mass in front of us, while at the same time straining our ears for sounds from above. Flavia and her comrade must have heard the gong, but did they hear us, too? Lace's body is blocking the way ahead, so we are sitting ducks down here. If the careers decide to come back...

Finally, Ivee releases me from her grip and raises the torch above her head, fully illuminating the grim scene before us. Lace is weirdly still standing upright, transfixed by hundreds of thin metal spikes that have shot out of the wall. Her blood is everywhere, on the walls, on the ground, on my clothes. I double over and am sick in a corner.

"It's a trap, see?"

When I turn around again, I find Ivee calmly investigating the body, the walls, the spikes, everything. She kneels down and gently presses a hidden panel on the floor. It makes a clicking noise, and the spikes slide right back into the wall. With a sickening wet sound, Lace's mangled body falls to the floor.

A detached, logical part of my mind wonders how the body is going to be removed from the arena, since the usual hovercrafts won't be able to get in here. Will the Gamemakers just leave the body here until the Games are over? How many more deadly surprises are hidden down here? I decide I really don't want to stay and find out. The longer I'm down here, the harder I'm finding it not to hyperventilate. Ivee gingerly removes the backpack containing the camouflage net from the other girl's shoulders, shakes it briefly, and we head back to the exit.

It appears Flavia and the other boy have left, but we stay alert nevertheless. When I look around the entrance hall, I notice something else. The numbers have changed, some of them at least. I take out the notebook and hastily copy them down before following Ivee, who is already waiting for me outside. We take to the woods at a run, just in case the careers are still around.

When we are well clear of the temple, Ivee suddenly stops and spins around to confront me. A dagger has appeared in her hand and is pointing at me.

"Now you're gonna tell me _exactly_ what you were doing back there, or I'm gonna drop you right here and now!"

I am completely taken aback by her viciousness.

"Wh- what? What do you mean? Is this about what happened to Lace? I swear, I didn-"

"Oh _please_. Do you think I'm stupid? Did you really think I didn't notice?!"

"Ivee, I have _no idea_ what you're talking about," I plead.

She makes an impatient noise and looks me directly in the eye, gauging whether I am telling the truth.

"The numbers, doofus! I saw you writing something down. What was it, what did you find?"

A huge weight lifts off my heart. She isn't blaming me for Lace's death, she is just afraid I am keeping important information from her about the puzzle. I pull out my notepad and show it to her, willing my voice to sound as calm and reasonable as possible.

"I was _going_ to _tell you_, once we had gotten safely out of the danger zone and back to our hide-out. I wrote down all the numbers again because they had _changed_. Did you know this could happen? I was thinking perhaps the numbers are set to change after a certain period of time has elapsed. Or... or maybe they count how many people have been to the temple."

She stares intently at my scribblings for a minute or two. To my relief, she seems satisfied and is much calmer when she addresses me again.

"You really weren't planning on hiding this from me?"

I shake my head.

"No, why would I even do that? I thought we were on the same team. I don't think I can solve this puzzle on my own, anyway."

Neither of us needs to be reminded that alliances during the Hunger Games can only ever be of a temporary nature. But this is what matters, for now.

"Well, alright then. Just don't ever pull a stunt on me like that again, y'hear?"

She turns around and starts walking again, then stops and adds quietly, without looking at me,

" I... It was all a bit much, what happened to Lace and all... I didn't mean... what I said just now."

"Forget about it, okay?" I reply. "Let's get back to the others. Then we can work on figuring out what it all means. Together."

She nods, and sets off at a brisk stride. I follow her, but now it's like there is a great distance between us. It's hard to put my finger on, but I sense I have glimpsed a part of her that I didn't know was there before. And I don't think I'll be able to ever fully trust her again.

About half-way back to the clubhouse, the woods thin out, and the underbrush isn't as thick as in other areas. I suddenly spot something shiny between the trees to our right. Carefully, we approach a small clearing. As we get closer, I can make out a pair of black boots sticking out from behind a bush. I part the branches and sure enough, there is a figure clad in a dark blue overall, lying prostrate on the ground, the head obscured by a bush. Did we miss another cannon? Ivee walks right into me as I stop and stand frozen in horror. Impatiently, she shoves me aside and kneels down next to the body to examine it. She tugs at the left boot and it comes right off. Twigs and leaves spill from where the leg should have been.

A loud voice rings out behind us.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Alright now. Hands where I can see 'em!"

Raising our hands, we slowly turn around to face a boy standing only a few feet away with a bow and an arrow trained on my heart. He is dressed only in his underclothes, but his whole body is covered in mud and green stuff that could be moss. No wonder we didn't see him coming.

His face is unrecognizable, but his Southern accent is very familiar. This can only be "Funny Farmer Boy", Rufe Avery. Only he is not in a particularly jolly mood right now. Ivee has recognized him as well.

"Rufe? Rufe, is that you? I'm Ivee, remember? From District 3. We talked that night after the big dinner. And this is Corvin, also from 3. We pose no threat to you."

"Oh really? Then pray tell me, sweetheart, why is he all covered in blood?"

"We didn't harm anybody! Please, you've got to believe me!" Ivee pleads, all vulnerable little girl.

I can now tell that this is an act, but the other boy's expression softens a little. He still doesn't lower his weapon, though.

"Explain."

I start to stammer something, but Ivee is way ahead of me.

"This girl who was with us, Lace, she was killed in a trap back at the temple. It wasn't our fault, I swear! She was our _friend_!"

She begins to sob, and it sounds real, even to me. His eyes dart from me to her and back to me. I do my best to look as harmless and downtrodden as possible, just in case she doesn't have him completely convinced. Finally he relaxes a bit and lowers his bow, but still holds it at the ready.

"Alright, let's assume I believe you. D'you folks honestly expect me to jus' let you go?"

"You could join our group! There's two more of us, waiting at our hide-out. A boy and a girl, really nice, both of them. And we've got lots of food, you know. You look like you could use something to eat."

I don't know how she can tell either way under all that dirt. And "lots of food" is a bit of an exaggeration, but anything to keep that arrowhead off me is fine by me.

To my intense relief, it works. He puts away his bow and agrees to come with us, after collecting his clothes which he had used to set up the dummy that fooled us. From one moment to the other, Rufe's manner changes completely, just like Ivee did earlier. In an instant he goes back to being the easy-going, friendly farmer boy with the big smile. Only with him, I feel I am looking at his real self now and not a show.

As we walk him back to our clubhouse, we chat about this and that, and he regails us with a story about how he tricked two career boys into fighting each other while he stole the bow and some food. For the first time in what feels like ages, I find myself smiling.

I am in such a good mood when we reach the cave that I have almost forgotten about Lace. Only when I see Thaniel's confused and worried expression do I remember the sad news we bear as well. The joy over the arrival of a new companion is tainted by the loss of another. Pearl makes a brave effort to hide her tears and to give Rufe a warm welcome. He quickly picks up on the dark mood that is settling over the group and tries to cheer us up, but has the decency not to make any silly jokes. Thaniel is very quiet for the rest of the evening, tidying and re-tidying the small pile of things Lace left behind.

We dine on fish leftovers and go outside when it is time for the evening announcement. We all know who today's only casualty will be. Nobody says a word as our friend's face is projected onto the sky and then fades away like she never existed.

Next to me, Pearl gives the tiniest of snuffles, and without thinking I pull her into my arms. She presses her head into the crook of my shoulder and I hold her while her slender body is racked by a series of silent little sobs. I may be wrong, but she feels a little warm.

After a while of sitting around in silence, we crawl back inside and go to sleep. All of us except Thaniel. When I leave he is still just sitting there, staring up at the stars that could almost be real.

The next morning we find ourselves in the middle of a downpour of biblical proportions, forcing us to stay in the cave all day. Ivee is the most restless and briefly ventures outside, only to return soon afterwards, soaked to the skin and in an even worse mood than before.

It wouldn't be so bad, spending the day in our clubhouse, if it wasn't for the heat. The humid air has settled over us like a leaden blanket, making it difficult to breathe, let alone move. None of us talk very much. Once or twice, Rufe attempts to get a conversation going, but each time it quickly fades away. I just lie on my mat for most of the day, too exhausted to do anything but to toss and turn uncomfortably, but not able to sleep either. The others simply sit there, staring at the walls, listening to the pounding of the rain, watching as it trickles down through the skyholes and collects in little pools on the floor, before seeping into the sandy ground. I see tired, sweaty faces all around.

Pearl is off even worse than the rest of us, for she has spiked a bad fever and is barely conscious most of the time. Several times, I fill a jug with fresh rainwater and bathe her with it, but it doesn't seem to cool her down at all. I notice several swollen mosquito bites on her arm, and think of our neighbor, Dr. Saunders, mentioning that mosquitos can carry dangerous diseases. He and his wife were wonderful people, always had a kind word for me. They had a daughter who was sent to the Hunger Games a few years back. They were never the same again after that.

Ivee crawls over to us and helps me bathe the other girl's burning face with a bit of cloth.

"She looks so frail, doesn't she? She is such a sweet girl, and so brave," she says quietly. "I just... I just wish we could do something more to help her."

She casts her eyes down for a moment, as if overcome with emotion, then gives me a pointed look. She doesn't say anything more out loud, but I understand what she is doing. I had almost forgotten that all this, our struggle for survival, is just a show for the people in the Capitol. And Ivee is appealing to the audience's feelings. I resist the impulse to look around for hidden cameras. Of course the Gamemakers have installed monitoring equipment even in caves like this one, so as not to miss anything that goes on within the arena. And Ivee might be right in assuming that a young, sweet girl like Pearl will spark a lot of sympathy. So I play along as best I can.

"Me too. But without any medicine, there is nothing more we can do for her."

I don't have to fake being afraid for Pearl's life, because I really am.

Ivee's strategy plays out again. Less than an hour later, a regular beeping sound informs us a gift from the sponsors has arrived. The rain has also finally stopped. Ivee and I hastily crawl outside and find the small silver parachute caught in a bush right next to the entrance to our cave. Attached to it is a metal cylinder the size of my palm. Ivee begins to disentangle the parachute strings from the branches.

And that's just when a small axe or tomahawk whirs out of the bushes and takes her thumb off.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Ivee doesn't scream. For a second or two, she simply stares at the place where her thumb used to be and that is now spurting blood. Then she slowly sinks to her knees. I spin around and narrowly avoid being hit by another ax that had been aimed for my heart. It buries itself deep into a tree next to me with a sharp crack. Then a girl with long blond hair bursts from the bushes with a murderous shriek, two more throwing axes in her hands.

Behind me, Ivee is still down, and without thinking I take up a position myself between her and the attacker. As the other girl hurls herself at me I realize with a flash of panic that I didn't bring my knife with me when I left the cave. I do the only thing I can think of. I yank the ax that had been meant for me out of the tree and turn to face the charging fury. She comes at me with full force. She is of slender build, but taller than I am, and her long arms are hacking away at me with two axes at once, with movements so quick they are almost a blur. I try to block her blows with my own ax as best I can, but she deals several cuts to my arms and chest. The whole time she continues to scream like a berserk, and when I catch a glimpse of her face it is contorted with pure rage.

_Thwack!_

Just when I think I cannot fend her off any longer, she lets out a sharp cry and falls to her knees as her right leg buckles under her. An arrow is protruding from her calf.

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

Three more arrows pierce her in rapid succession, two in the chest and the last one in her throat. She makes a gurgling noise and falls over backwards. Her body gives another jolt, then lies still. A cannon shot is fired.

Rufe has materialized next to me and slowly lowers his bow. His face has that same hard look he had when I first met him in the forest. Again it strikes me how different he looks. Dangerous, ready to do anything to protect himself and his allies. But his expression immediately softens when he turns to check on Ivee, who is sitting on the ground with her back propped up against a tree. She is clutching the bleeding hand to her chest and is very pale, but otherwise apparently unharmed. Rufe tears off a bit of his shirt and presses it on the wound to staunch the bleeding. Then he gently helps her to her feet and slowly walks her back to the cave entrance.

Despite her repeated insistence that she is fine, it takes a while bring Ivee through the narrow tunnel. Inside we find a worked-up Thaniel, awkwardly holding my knife, scared but ready to protect Pearl. I can tell he is very relieved it is only us. Rufe and I leave Ivee in his care and make another quick trip outside to retrieve Rufe's arrows and to search the girl's body. In total, we collect six small axes, a bag of dried fruit, a water skin, and a pair of night-sight goggles, which might really come in handy. We are so excited about this discovery, we barely remember to get the parachute Ivee and I went out for in the first place. As expected, the cylinder contains fever medicine for Pearl.

We give her two of the pills with some water and she goes back to sleep right away. Thaniel keeps a close watch over her while Rufe and I tend to Ivee's hand, though there is really nothing much we can do apart from maintaining steady pressure on the wound. I can see she is in a lot of pain, but she is trying not to show any weakness. When the bleeding hasn't subsided after an hour, Rufe brings up the suggestion of cauterizing the wound, basically burning it shut to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. I am skeptical, but Ivee says she wants to try it. So Rufe produces a box of matches and lights a small fire. We agree to use the blade of my knife. Ivee bravely holds out her hand and Rufe presses the knife against the gaping hole where her thumb should have been. She screams as the hot metal touches her skin with a sickening hiss, and the smell of burning flesh fills the cave. It is disgustingly reminiscent of the smell of cooking bacon. I hold my breath and force myself to examine our work. The wound is a mess of dark red and black, but I can see no more fresh blood. Ivee's eyes are brimming with tears but she stares ahead stubbornly, bearing the pain in silence. She relaxes a bit when I wrap her hand in a wet piece of cloth to cool it.

"So, what's for dinner? I'm starving!" she presses out in a brave attempt at humor.

She has a point. We hadn't thought about food in a while. Now that both she and Pearl are taken care of, there is no point in all of us sitting around in the cave. So after cleaning my cuts Thaniel and I decide to go fishing while Rufe builds a bigger fire and tends to the girls.

In a short time we bring together a fine catch, and we all dine together on roasted fish and nuts. Rufe even manages to coax a few bites into poor little Pearl. By the time we are finished, it is about time for the evening announcement, and Ivee insists on going outside, even though we know full well whose face is going to show up. This time I remember to bring the knife along. Thaniel stays behind with Pearl, while Rufe and I help Ivee through the tunnel, though she is already doing much better. We make ourselves comfortable on the ground and enjoy the clear evening air. The tropical forest is still wet from all the rain. I notice Ivee snuggling up to Rufe, even though the air is still pleasantly warm. He puts his arm around her. I can very much understand the need for a little human comfort.

I watch Rufe's face grow somber as the anthem starts to play and the girl he killed appears in the sky. Her name was Forsythia Abrams, from District 7. I try not to think of her only as the girl who attacked us, but try to imagine what her life was like before the Reaping, what kind if a person she might have been.

After the announcement, we get up, some more reluctantly than others, and squeeze back in through the tunnel for what seems like the hundredth time today.

Back inside, Rufe and Ivee go straight to bed. Pearl and Thaniel are already fast asleep. I don't feel like sleeping, and the fire hasn't quite burned down yet, so I take out my notebook. I cross her Forsythia's name off the list and do a quick round-up of the tributes that are still in the game. Apart from the five of us, the only ones left are Flavia and her two cronies, the twins from District 2, the boy from District 7, and Wing Jetsam. Wing, the enigmatic girl from the fishing district, who saved my life and disappeared again. I fall asleep wondering how she is doing, whether she too is aching for some human warmth.


End file.
